Happens in Threes
by editor frog
Summary: It all started with a coffee cup...and got worse.


**So...has this ever happened to anyone? :)**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.**

* * *

The sound of the ceramic shattering onto the tile was enough to raise the heads of several agents in the bullpen.

"It's okay," Emily called out. "It's just…well, I…"

"Broke your coffee cup, didn't you?" Morgan said helping his friend and colleague scoop up the jagged shards and mop up the spilled coffee.

"What can I say? Butterfingers this morning," the woman replied. "I just hope Reid doesn't notice his favorite cup is gone."

Morgan goggled. "You used _Reid's_ cup?"

"Well, yeah. Payback for that time he dropped mine down a flight of stairs."

"He didn't mean it, you know…"

"Hey. My father got me that cup from Rio, during Carnivale. I had to miss the festival that year—was off chasing the Desert Rose killer with you guys. It's the one time of year my father and I spend time together."

"Still, you _broke_ his _cup_. I think his mom got him that cup…"

"Oh." Now Emily looked chagrined. "Wow. Damn. Now I feel bad."

"Well, I could be wrong. Still, you're about to find out." Morgan pointed over to the sideboard cupboard, where a certain tall, lanky agent was rummaging through the shelves looking for something.

"Ah, morning Reid," Emily said, trying to keep her voice light. "Whatcha looking for?"

"Can't find my cup," the younger agent muttered, only half noticing that he was dangerously close to knocking over a half-dozen more off the shelves. "I know it's here—it's big, and blue, with a funny white swirl glazed into it…"

"Yeeeahh, about that," Emily said, swallowing hard. "Um…"

Reid finally snapped out of his fog-like state and turned to face his friend. "What?"

"I, um…well, about your cup…"

"What about it?"

"It, ah, broke."

Reid looked like a deer in headlights. "Broke? How?"

"I poured coffee into it and it slipped out of my fingers…"

"Wait. You used my cup?"

"Yeah. Reid, I'm so sorry. Mine was gone, and you were the one who broke it…"

"I did? I broke your cup? Emily, I never use _anything_ but that blue cup!"

Emily was taken aback. "Never?"

"Never. I love that cup. It was the first thing I bought as soon as I became an agent. My first 'office purchase.'" Reid looked like a child who had been told that Santa didn't exist.

"Oh, my god. I thought _you _had..."

"Plus, now there's the fact that you'll break two more…"

"What? Reid, I-I'm sorry I broke your cup, and I can replace it if you want, but…"

"No, it's not that. Things break in threes. I'd be careful if I were you."

Emily shook her head, walking back to her desk. _Things break in threes? Come on…_

* * *

Later on that day Emily decided to pay Garcia a visit. She'd stopped off for lunch and remembered that it was her turn to buy—the two women had a going lunch date every Monday Emily wasn't on the road. After picking up a tuna on wheat and a club on rye (Garcia's favorite), she strode into the tech's office and sat the meticulously sealed container on the desk, far away from her friend's "babies." Emily knew how much a clean office meant to her friend.

Suddenly something flashed on the screen, startling her. She took a step forward and hit something hard, which knocked her over onto the floor. The box containing her tuna sandwich went flying into the air, nestling itself deep within one of the monitor screens. The remnants of tuna and mayonnaise splattered over the keyboard, smearing everywhere.

"Oh, great," Emily muttered under her breath. She searched for something to clean up with before Garcia came back to find her office a disaster. She'd heard the story of what her friend had done to Kevin Lynch after he'd moved out of her office and back to his own office up in Internal Affairs.

The mayonnaise and fish proved to be a chore, seeping into the little cracks in the keyboard. There was no way she'd get that out of there. Emily then began looking for the cord she needed to disconnect the board altogether and take it down for repair—on her dime. The cord proved to be pretty elusive, though…

"Almost…there!" she cried, pulling the plug. Instantly the lights in the room went pitch black, and the room was so silent she could hear a pin drop. Emily stared into the blackness, the word 'oops' dancing across her tongue.

"Oh, my—what _happened_ in here?!" a familiar voice cried, frantically switching the light panels on and off.

"Oops," came a timid voice from the center of the room.

"Emily? What did you…?"

"I, uh, had an accident?"

* * *

At the end of the day Emily felt horrible. Garcia _still_ couldn't work out of her office—the repair techs were supposed to be in in the morning—and Reid moped around like someone had denied him access to his firstborn child or a rare volume of ancient literature or something.

"That's it," she said finally, catching the attention of her colleagues. "I'm going home. I can't possibly break or destroy anything else today…"

The room bid her good-bye as the woman left the bullpen and settled herself into the elevator. A hand reached in just as the doors were about to close, and both Reid and Rossi walked inside.

"Bad day, huh?" Rossi asked, eyeing Emily with sympathy.

"Tell me about it. I'm never drinking coffee _again._"

"At least, not in my cup," Reid pointed out.

"There's that too." Emily pushed the button for the parking garage, which wouldn't light when she pressed it. Now agitated, she pressed it again—not once but six times.

"Emily, the button's broken," Reid said. "You'll have to get off in the lobby…"

"Oh, no. This thing's gonna work or else. I've broken or dropped or destroyed too many things today…"

Suddenly the elevator car froze, wedged between floors six and seven. The three agents looked at each other as the lights in the car went out and the emergency lights flooded on.

"What was that about things working?" Rossi asked.

Emily's head fell into her waiting hand. "Just shoot me now, please…"

"Well, if we do that then we'll break more things," her superior said, a small smile crossing his face. "And then where would we be?"

Reid couldn't stop laughing as Emily let out a loud, frustrated sigh. "Hopefully the car still works," she said finally, allowing herself a chuckle.


End file.
